


Domesticity in Summertime

by Persiflage



Series: Makeouts Are Mandatory [18]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Future Fic, Kissing, Makeouts are Mandatory, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Phil Coulson, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10021709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Enjoying some time off at the Retreat, Phil and Daisy do domestic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'Domestic' for the 'Makeouts are Mandatory': Cousy Mini Drabble-a-thon.
> 
> This is nothing but fluff (well, okay, fluff with a hint of smut, let's be honest!).

"What's for dinner?" Daisy asks, wrapping her arms around Coulson's middle, her right hand automatically splaying over his heart. He feels her lips press the back of his neck, just above the worn collar of his old grey SHIELD t-shirt.

"Something light," he tells her, twisting his head in an effort to get a look at her. She obligingly shifts to his right side, although her hand remains pressed over his heart, and he tilts his head towards her invitingly.

She gives him a bright smile, then leans in and presses her mouth to his, and they kiss for several minutes – the salad Coulson had been making forgotten as he loses himself in the taste of her mouth, the way she curls her tongue around his, the sensation of its tip stroking across the roof of his mouth.

She eventually pulls back, breathing heavily, then draws her arms down his torso so she can press his body against hers. "Are you sure you want to eat right now?" she asks in a low voice, her expression speculative.

He chuckles, then turns to face her properly. She drops her right hand between their bodies to trace the outline of his erection through the fabric of his shorts. "Were you wanting to eat something else?" he asks, smirking.

She clasps his wrist and brings his hand between her thighs, pressing it against her sex, and he gets the message and begins to stroke her over the fabric of her own shorts. "Actually, I was thinking you might like to eat me."

He groans, then clasps her waist, guiding her back against one of the cabinets; he draws her shorts and panties down, she steps out of them, then spreads her legs. He carefully sinks to his knees before her, then dives in.


End file.
